


Finstock's Wilderness Camp for Boys

by rainsoakedshoes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Bad Boy Derek, Bad Boy Stiles, Camping, Derek and Stiles are the Same Age, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 05:24:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4209597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainsoakedshoes/pseuds/rainsoakedshoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What happens if I don’t go?” </p>
<p>“You get charged with breaking and entering, and you will probably serve time in a juvenile facility,” the sheriff said matter of factly. “That’s if you’re lucky enough to be tried as a minor.” </p>
<p>“You’d send your own son to jail?” Stiles asked in disbelief. </p>
<p>“You broke into someone’s home, Stiles!” The sheriff took a breath to compose himself and ran a hand across his face. “And this isn’t the first time. I can’t keep bailing you out of trouble. I don’t have any favours left to call in. Either you agree to go to the camp and clean up your act, or you risk getting tried as an adult.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finstock's Wilderness Camp for Boys

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally meant to be for the [Bitetime fest](bitetime.tumblr.com) but unfortunately i didnt get it finished in time for posting. but here it is now!!
> 
> the prompt for this was the synopsis of a movie called Augusta, Gone: "A parent struggles to control their teenager's out-of-control behavior by sending them to a wilderness camp."
> 
> Now the camp that Finstock runs isnt anywhere near as horrific as these "troubled teen" camps can get in real life, while they boys are pushed to their limits through rigorous exercise and routine no deaths or serious injuries occur. That being said however if you think there's something i need to tag or if i need to bump up the rating, please let me know!
> 
> As always a massive thank you to Rennie for being my beta, and being as enthusiastic about my writing as ever

The sheriff slid a pamphlet across the table towards Stiles without a word. Stiles picked up the pamphlet and scoffed at the title.

**FINSTOCK’S WILDERNESS CAMP FOR BOYS**

“You can’t be serious,” Stiles said. He dropped the pamphlet back down onto the table and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Serious as a heart attack.” He ignored the way Stiles frowned slightly at that comparison.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Haven’t you heard how dangerous these types of camps can be? You know they’re typically run by inexperienced staff, right? And-”

The sheriff held up a hand effectively cutting Stiles off. “This is not up for discussion. You’re going.” The sheriff’s face softened a touch. “Did you really think that I didn’t vet this camp completely and make sure that it’s safe? They have never had a boy die in their care, and in the last five years the worst injury sustained by a boy in their care was a broken leg. All of their staff are trained and qualified.”

Stiles slumped down in his seat. Of course his father would actually research the place first. “What happens if I don’t go?”

“You get charged with breaking and entering, and you will probably serve time in a juvenile facility,” the sheriff said matter of factly. “That’s if you’re lucky enough to be tried as a minor.”

“You’d send your own son to jail?” Stiles asked in disbelief.

“You broke into someone’s home, Stiles!” The sheriff took a breath to compose himself and ran a hand across his face. “And this isn’t the first time. I can’t keep bailing you out of trouble. I don’t have any favours left to call in. Either you agree to go to the camp and clean up your act, or you risk getting tried as an adult.”

Stiles stood up fast, sending his chair skidding back across the floor. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

The teenager picked up the pamphlet and tore it in half. He threw the pieces on the floor as he stormed out of the room.  

“You leave on Monday!” The sheriff called after him.

*

Upon seeing the place for the first time, the worst thing about _Finstock’s Wilderness Camp for Boys_ – in Stiles’ opinion – was how _normal_ it looked.

He had been hoping for bleak buildings and bruised and downtrodden boys walking around like zombies. Instead the buildings were in good condition, and there were beautiful, well-manicured lawns and garden beds. The property backed up onto national park where most of the actual wilderness activities were conducted. Driving in Stiles could see an outdoor basketball court, and two large buildings, one with a sign simply saying “mess hall”.

The only boys they saw were being dropped off by their own parents. As the sheriff had explained on the drive up, it was the beginning of the month, so the camp was home to a new cycle of boys. Stiles wouldn’t be jumping in halfway through.

Stiles was quiet while the sheriff signed him in with a counsellor, a blonde woman in a red shirt. He stood with his eyes crossed, refusing to even make eye contact with his father.

All of the boys – twenty of them in total – left their bags near the main office building and milled around, saying goodbye to parents while they waited for Finstock to come out and greet them.

Only after all the parents had left did Finstock finally did make his appearance.

Stiles wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, perhaps some ex-marine with a crewcut and a tank top. Whatever he had been picturing, it was not the man who stood in front of the group of boys.

Finstock looked normal enough – that was a common theme with the camp that was starting to set Stiles on edge. He was dressed in black track pants, and a grey zip up sweat shirt. He was holing a clipboard in one hand. There was a whistle around his neck that he blew on sharply to get the boys attention.

Finstock pointed at a white line painted on the ground. “I want you all to line up! Shoulder to shoulder! Now!”

The boys did what they were told, slowly at first until Finstock blew his whistle again to hurry them up.

“You can call me Coach or Sir,” Finstock told the boys. He stood in front of the boys with his arms crossed. “And for the next month I control you.”

There were a few snickers and rude comments from the boys, until Finstock blew his whistle for the second time and the boys went quiet.

“Looks like we have a couple of repeat customers this month,” Finstock said. He paced up and down in front of the line of boys. “Hale, Whittemore, I wish I could say it’s good to see your lazy asses back here but we all know that’s not true.”

“Missed you too, Coach,” one of the boys said.

Stiles leaned forward and tried to pick out who had spoken, but from his place in line he couldn’t tell.

Finstock stopped pacing and crossed his arms over his chest. “Hale, since you’re back here I’m not surprised that you also haven’t learned to keep your smart mouth shut yet. You’ve heard the rules before. Three laps of the main yard. Now.”

Stiles watched as a black haired boy broke rank and jogged in the opposite direction.

Finstock turned his attention back to the group. “Back talking will not be tolerated,” he said. “Other things that are not allowed: drugs, cigarettes, alcohol, knives, firearms, explosives. Your bags will be searched and any contraband found will be confiscated. You will be expected to participate in all activities. Failure to participate will result in punishment.”

“Punishments range from isolation, to laps, to extra cleaning duty. Allocation of punishments are at my discretion. And yes I said _extra_ cleaning duty. You will all be responsible for keeping your cabins clean and equipment in good condition. A roster of kitchen duty can be found in the mess hall.”

“Speaking of the mess hall, meals are at a set time: Breakfast from 5:30 to 6:30, lunch from 12:30 to 1:30, dinner from 6:30 to 7:30, if you miss a meal you don’t eat.”

Finstock paused to make sure the boys were paying attention and taking in all the information.

“Now moving on to what you will spend your time here doing. Week one will be a mixture of beginners hikes, cardio training, and learning basic wilderness survival. You will learn how to pitch tents as well as make your own shelter. You will learn to navigate without a compass, and how to make fires, although I’m sure some of you little delinquents have that talent polished into a fine art by now.

“Weeks two and three will be much the same. However during week two you will spend two nights in the woods. Week three you will be spending three nights. Then in week four, five of your nights will be spent in the woods; two in your tent, three out in the elements.”

A chorus of groans and swears went through the boys.

“Shut up!” Finstock shouted. “Swearing will not be tolerated. By the time I’m done with you there will be no complaining. Any questions?” A boy three up from Stiles raised his hand. “Yes,” Finstock checked the clipboard in his hand. “Mahealani?”

“What happens if one of us gets hurt?”

“Good question!” Finstock nodded. “You will also be learning basic first aid. A serious injury is the only thing that will excuse you from any of the activities. However it’s been a long time since we’ve had any serious injuries. It’s also worthwhile to note that reckless behaviour that could result in injury to yourself or others will result in isolation. Deliberately trying to injure a staff member will get the cops called on you.”

Finstock gave the boys a long hard look as he let his words sink in.

“Great! Now all of that’s out of the way, we’re going to go find where Hale is up to. You’re all going to run laps until dinner.”

Everyone groaned again, although it was cut short by Finstock blowing on his whistle.

Stiles stuck his hand in the air. “I’m not really dressed for distance running.” He gestured to his outfit: ripped jeans, a hoodie, and heavy combat boots.

Finstock looked him up and down. “Then this will be a lesson in the art of appropriate attire, won’t it?”

Without another word Finstock walked away, motioning for the boys to follow him.

*

True to his word, Finstock did make them run laps until it was time for dinner.

By the time he trudged into the mess hall with the other boys Stiles was sweaty and aching all over. He was pretty sure that his feet were bleeding from where his boots had rubbed.

While the boys ate Finstock made some further housekeeping announcements.

“I’ve assigned you all to cabins. I want you to listen for your names and get into your cabin groups.”

Stiles played with his food while Finstock read out the names.

“Cabin 3: Boyd, Hale, McCall, and Stilinski!”

Stiles and three other boys stood and moved over to a free table so they could sit together.

“I’m Scott,” One of the boys said as they sat. He had a bright smile that looked out of place amongst the scowls and tired faces of the other boys. “Scott McCall.”

One by one the others introduced themselves.

“Derek Hale.”

“Vernon Boyd. I prefer Boyd.”

“You can call me Stiles.”  

“Once you’ve finished dinner you can go settle into your cabins. Cabin 5 is on kitchen duty tonight!” With that Finstock put down his clipboard and left the boys to eat and talk.

“You’re the one who talked back to Finstock earlier,” Stiles said, looking at Derek.

“I am,” Derek nodded.

“Why?” Stiles asked.

Derek shrugged, he turned his attention to his meal, making it obvious that he wasn’t up for small talk.

*

The cabins were small, with only two bunk beds in each. The floors were wooden with no carpeting, and the walls were bare. There were no curtains over the windows. A single bulb on the ceiling illuminated the room.

Stiles threw his bag up onto the top bunk on the left side of the room, claiming it, before anyone could say anything.

None of the other boys cared though. Boyd took the other top bunk, Scott took the bed under him, while Derek took the bunk under Stiles.

“So what are you guys in for anyway?” Stiles asked. He kicked his shoes off before hoisting himself up onto the bed.

There was a beat of silence before Scott answered first.

“Mom thought it might be good for me.”

Boyd answered next.

“Didn’t have much of a choice.”

Stiles leaned down to look at Derek. “What did you do to get sent here a second time?”

“Didn’t learn my lesson the first time.” Derek raised an eyebrow at Stiles. “What did _you_ do?”

“My dad’s a sheriff, he sent me away before I could tarnish his reputation more than I already have,” Stiles answered.

The four boys were quiet while they got ready for sleep. They all moved slowly, sore from all the activity Finstock had made them do.

“Hey, Derek?” Scott asked quietly in the dark.

“Yeah?”

“Is it really as bad as Finstock made it seem?”

“Worse,” Derek told him before rolling over to face the wall.

*

A loud siren woke the boys up the next morning.

“What the fuck is that?” Stiles demanded, sitting up. It was still dark outside.

Scott and Boyd had sat up as well and were looking around bleary eyed and barely awake. Derek was the only one who hadn’t moved. He was lying stomach down on the bed, with one arm under his pillow.

“What’s going on?” Scott asked.

“Wake up call,” Derek said, voice sleep rough and muffled by the pillow. “Its 5am. We have half an hour before breakfast to shower and get dressed then make it to the mess.”

A moment later Finstock’s voice came booming through the loudspeakers, relaying the same information that Derek had.

“Fuck that,” Stiles groaned. He thumped back down onto the bed. “I’m going back to sleep.”

Derek rolled over onto his back and sat up. He pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes and yawned. His hair was sticking up in all directions.

“You can sleep,” Derek said. “But Coach is serious about missing meals. If you don’t go to breakfast you won’t eat again till lunch. Trust me.”

Boyd and Scott were already up and pulling on clean clothes. Derek stood and started searching through his own clothes. Stiles groaned again, but eventually got up and started pulling out clean clothes.

The four of them made their way to the mess hall on the other side of the compound together. They were joined on the way by other boys from other cabins, none of whom looked fully awake yet.

“Fuck a month of five am wake up calls,” one of the boys muttered. “I’d rather spend the whole time in isolation.”

Next to Stiles, Derek snorted and shook his head.

“You should ask Hale about that before you make up your mind,” Another boy said.

Stiles glanced over his shoulder and saw that it was Jackson Whittemore who had spoken.

“Why?” the first boy asked.

“Hale spent more time in Iso than any of us last time,” Jackson said.

“Shut up, Whittemore,” Derek muttered.

“What’s isolation like?” Stiles asked.

Derek glanced at Stiles and sighed. “Its isolation,” he shrugged. “Four walls, a bed bolted to the floor, toilet and a sink. A staff member brings you your meals, they don’t speak to you. You’re not given anything to do, you just have to sit there.”

“How long did you spend in isolation?” Scott asked.

“Thirteen days total,” Derek said. “My longest stretch was during the third week. Tuesday morning to Saturday evening.”

“Most peaceful five days we ever had,” Jackson said.

Derek flipped Jackson off then sped up his walking pace before any of the other boys could think of another question.

*

Stiles picked at the scrambled eggs on his plate. The food wasn’t great, but it wasn’t exactly terrible either. That pissed him off way more than it should have. He had expected the food to be disgusting.

Stiles sat with Scott, Derek, Boyd and two other boys, Liam and Isaac. None of them spoke beyond introducing themselves. None of them were used to being up so early, and they were too busy eating.

“What are girls doing here?” Liam asked suddenly, looking at the front of the room.

The five other boys looked up as well and followed Liam’s gaze. A whisper went through the mess hall as all the boys noticed the girls.

Two young women had entered the mess hall and were heading to the front. They were wearing matching outfits: black yoga pants, red t-shirts with the camps logo on the front, and sneakers. They both had their hair tied up in high pony tails and had whistles around their necks. Neither of them seemed fazed by having all of the boys staring at them.

“They’re counsellors,” Derek said. He had briefly glanced at the girls, then turned back to his food. “The blonde is Erica, the brunette I don’t know, she must be new.”

“They’re in charge?” Boyd asked.

Derek nodded. “Coach supervises basically everything, but the counsellors are the ones who actually run the activities. There are more counsellors around, you’ll meet them over the first week.”

“They’re girls,” Liam said.

“Yes,” Derek said slowly, nodding his head. “They are girls, and they will run you into the ground. Erica made Whittemore cry last time.” Derek raised his voice a little. “Isn’t that right, Whittemore? Erica made you her bitch.”

“Shut the fuck up, Hale!” Jackson snapped loudly from a table over.

The brunette girl blew her whistle. “Whittemore! Watch your language or we’ll have you running suicides until you puke! That goes for the rest of you too!”

Jackson scowled at Derek and stabbed at his food viciously.

Finstock entered the mess and made his way to the front to join the girls.

“Good morning, boys!” Finstock clapped his hands and smiled brightly. “I’d like to introduce you to two of your counsellors: Erica and Allison,” he pointed to the two girls in turn. “They’ll be leading your first hike today. I’ll be there to keep an eye on things, but you will follow all orders these two give you.”

One of the younger boys sitting at the table with Jackson laughed. “I’m not gonna listen to some fuckin’ girls.”

Finstock crossed his arms over his chest. “Why?”

All eyes turned on the younger boy, who blanched a little but didn’t back down. “They’re _girls_. Girls aren’t leaders. Everyone knows girls are weaker than boys.”

“Oh man, he shouldn’t have said that,” Derek whispered. He shook his head and looked away from the scene that was unfolding.

“Why?” Stiles asked, trying to catch Derek’s eye.

Before Derek could answer Finstock was talking again.

“Stand up and come to the front, Miller. It is Miller, right?”

The teenager nodded and got to his feet. He kept his head up as all eyes followed him to the front of the room.

Finstock looked at the two girls. “Which one of you want to take this?” he asked.

“I will,” Allison said. She took her whistle off and placed it on the table behind her.

Finstock nodded at Miller. “Push ups. Now.”

“What?” Miller asked.

“You and Allison are going to have a push up competition,” Finstock explained. “If you can do more than Allison then you don’t have to go on today’s hike. If you can’t you owe Allison and Erica an apology, and you have to scrub the bathrooms.”

Allison dropped down onto the floor, holding her weight on her palms and toes. Miller hesitated for a moment, then followed suit.

Finstock started counting as Miller and Allison did the push ups. Erica joined in on counting, then one by one the boys all added their voices as well.

Miller made it to twenty before he collapsed onto his stomach, breathing heavily. Allison was still going strong.

“On your feet, Miller.” Finstock ordered.

The teenager rolled over onto his back then pushed himself up. Allison stood as well, a bright smile on her face. She fixed her pony tail and then picked up her whistle.

“Apologise to the girls.”

“Sorry,” Miller muttered, not looking at Allison and Erica.

“For what?” Finstock prompted.

“I’m sorry for saying girls are weak.”

“Go finish your breakfast, Miller,” Finstock said.

Miller headed back to his table, head hung and cheeks red.

Allison and Erica sat on the edge of the table together, talking while the boys finished their breakfast.

At exactly 6:30 Allison and Erica climbed up and stood on top of the table. They had their hands on their hips and stared down at the boys.

“On your feet!” Erica yelled.

Derek, Jackson, Miller, and several other boys stood right away, but the others all took their time; finishing their food and drink.

“Now!” Erica punctuated the order with a sharp blow on her whistle.

The sound of chairs scraping against the floor filled the hall as all the boys stood.

“Today you’re all ours,” Allison said, spreading her arms. “If you’re respectful and do what we say you might still be able to walk by the time we’re done with you.” She nodded at Erica who continued.

“Today we’re going to take you on a nice hike.” The blonde had a predatory gleam in her eye. “You’ll be carrying full packs holding your tents, sleeping bags, that kind of thing.”

“You’ll also be carrying your lunch with you,” Allison added. “We’re going to hike until lunch time, stop and eat, then hike back.”

“Cabin two is on kitchen clean up this morning,” Erica continued. “The rest of you can wait in your cabins until 7:30, then meet back here to pick up your packs and we’ll set out.”

There was silence while the boys looked around at each other.

“Well,” Allison prompted. “Go on. Everyone but cabin two get out of here.”

It was a mad rush as all the boys headed for the door at once. Erica and Allison remained standing on the tables, watching them leave.

*

Allison and Erica had the boys hiking in two lines. Stiles walked next to Scott, Boyd and Derek were directly in front of them. The two girls lead the lines, while Finstock followed behind them all.

Stiles hitched his pack up and readjusted the straps. “I’m gonna die.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Derek said.

“Easy for you to say,” Stiles huffed. “You’ve done this before.”

“Quiet back there!” Erica called out from the front of the line.

“Quiet back there,” Stiles mimicked under his breath.

Scott huffed out a breathless laugh, while Derek and Boyd both rolled their eyes.

The girls and Finstock kept all the boys moving at a steady pace, refusing to let them take a break no matter how much the boys complained about being tired.

At one point three of the boys sat down and refused to move. Finstock told them that they were more than welcome to sit alone in the woods, then left them sitting alone with a parting word about looking out for bears. It took the three boys five minutes to change their minds and catch up.

By the time they finally did stop for lunch most of the boys were too exhausted to complain let alone cause any more trouble. They boys were fit, but none of them were used to such extended periods of exercise.

The place Finstock chose to stop was the same place that they would be camping at in the following weeks. It was a large, flat clearing that was surrounded by thick forest. The worn path the boys had used to reach it was the only path.

“We’re staying here for an hour before hiking back!” Finstock shouted. There was a chorus of groans from the boys who had collapsed around the clearing.

Stiles was lying stomach down on the ground, his pack still on his back. Derek, Scott and Boyd had removed their packs and were sprawled out near Stiles.

“You can leave me here to die,” Stiles said, his voice muffled against his arm.

Scott hummed in agreement, as did several other boys who were within earshot.

“It’s gonna get worse,” Derek said. He was reclining against his pack, his eyes shut.

“How could it possibly get worse?” Stiles asked.

“You notice how it was basically all uphill?” Derek didn’t open his eyes to look at the other boys.

“Yeah?” Scott nodded.

“So what?” Stiles added.

“It’s easier to run with the packs when we’re going downhill.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Boyd said.

“Just wait and see,” Derek told him.

Finstock let the boys rest, eat and rehydrate for half an hour before making the announcement.

“I decided we’re not going to head back right away,” Finstock said. “We’re going to teach you how to pitch your tents today. Although that does mean in order to get back before its’ dark you’re all going to be running back.”

“Told you,” Derek said as the others swore.

Allison and Erica gave the boys a demonstration of how to put the tents up. The tents were simple two person tents, with a single pole in the middle. The girls got the tent up with practised ease, then they stood by and watched while the boys paired up and struggled with their own tents.

Derek and Boyd, as well as Jackson and Danny, were the first ones to get the tents up. Several of the other pairs weren’t too far behind.

“How’d you two get yours up so fast?” Stiles asked Isaac and Liam. He was hammering in the tent pegs slowly, while Scott was inside the tent holding the tent pole up straight.

Isaac shrugged. “My dad used to take my older brother and me camping. A tent’s a tent.”

Once all the tents were up Finstock gave the boys a slow clap.

“Okay!” Finstock shouted. “Now tear ‘em down and pack ‘em up!”

Getting the tents back down took less time, but fitting everything back into the packs required the boys to take everything out and repack it all in the correct order.  

Finstock wasn’t kidding when he said that the boys were going to be running back to the main camp.

Once again Allison and Erica lead the boys back, with Finstock following behind. This time around however the boys were spread out on the track rather than running in two straight lines.

Even though they were running, it was dusk by the time the group got back to the main camp.

“You have half an hour to shower and change!” Allison yelled out.

“Then dinner in the mess!” Erica added.

All of the boys were exhausted, so dinner was a quiet affair, even more so than breakfast had been. The boys sat down with their food, it had only been two days but they had already formed smaller groups amongst themselves. The small cliques spread out over the tables in the mess.

“Listen up!” Erica called out in the middle of the meal. “We’re going to introduce you to the rest of the counsellors who are going to be running your lives for the next few weeks.”

There were five counsellors total, including Erica and Allison.

“First up are Ethan and Aiden,” Allison said.

Two men, identical twins, walked into the mess hall and joined Allison and Erica.

“And lastly, here is Malia!” Allison finished.

The third woman entered the room, her hair was cut into a short bob, and she was wearing the same red shirt that the other counsellors had on.

“Fuck,” Derek muttered, dropping his head down onto the table.

“What is it?” Scott asked.

“She’s my cousin,” Derek explained.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Stiles asked. “I mean won’t she go easy on you?”

Derek shook his head. “Not a chance.”

“Finish your meals,” Finstock said. “Then to bed.”

Even if the boys wanted to argue about being sent to bed so early they were all too tired to do so.

*

In the cabin, Stiles, Derek, Boyd and Scott took little time to change and climb into bed.

“They’re going to kill us,” Stiles complained.

“Wait until week four when we’re sleeping out in the open,” Derek said.

Stiles leaned off the edge of the top bunk to look down at Derek. “Is it really that bad?”

Derek shrugged. “Not really,” he admitted. “As long as it doesn’t rain we’ll be fine.”

“Well that’s comforting,” Stiles muttered.

“Stiles, shut up and go to sleep,” Boyd said.

Stiles flipped Boyd off, but then he did roll over onto his side and close his eyes.

*

The rest of the first week went exactly like Finstock had said it would. The only thing that varied was what the counsellors had the boys do during their break in the woods.

The group of boys spent a couple of hours each day learning basic survival skills: making fire, learning navigation, and learning how to make their own shelter. No matter what they boys were doing the tasks kept them busy. The only time they had to themselves was after dinner, however the boys were run ragged and they were too exhausted to do much more than hang out in their cabins.

A few of the boys pushed the counsellors, trying to test the water, but they inevitably found themselves in Iso, or running laps in the dark until they could barely move.

Derek spent Thursday night in Iso after he made the mistake of teasing Malia about her new haircut. While Boyd, Stiles and Jackson all ended up in a pull up competition after they got into an argument on the hike to the clearing on Friday.

*

By the beginning of week 2 the boys were starting to grow accustomed to the brutality. Their bodies were adjusting to their new sleep schedule, and even though their bodies were being worked to their limits the boys were young and adaptable.

Which is exactly why week two is when Finstock decided to shake things up.

On Monday morning Finstock announced the plans for the following week.

“Tonight you boys will be sleeping out in the woods!” Finstock shouted as the boys ate breakfast. “We’re going to hike up and spend the afternoon and the night in the woods, before hiking back tomorrow morning! Then we’re going to do the same thing all over again on Thursday night!”

“You should all pack warm clothes!” Aiden added, stepping forward. “The temperature is supposed to drop!”

“He looks way too happy about that,” Stiles said, pointing at Aiden with his fork.

“They all do,” Boyd agreed.

All of the counsellors were eating together, laughing and talking.

“How do they look so happy?” Stiles asked. “They’ve been doing almost everything we have.”

“They’re here voluntarily,” Derek pointed out. “And they’re paid to be here.”

Stiles conceded the point by stabbing his food viciously.

*

Aiden had been right, the temperature did drop that night.

The boys had been fine during the afternoon, they had been practising first aid on each other. However once the sun had gone down all the boys had started to shiver.

Finstock lit a fire and all of the boys sat around it, falling into the small groups that they had formed.

Stiles had a stick in his hand and he drew patterns in the dirt with it. “I always hated camping.”

“I used to like it,” Isaac said. “Not so much anymore.”

“You go a lot?” Scott asked Stiles.

Stiles shrugged. “We used to go as a family when I was a kid.” He snapped the stick in half. “Stopped after my mom died.”

“Shit, man,” Scott mumbled. “Sorry.”

“I’ve never been camping before,” Liam said, jumping in to change the subject.

“Look forward to the worst nights sleep of your life,” Derek said.

“At least it’s not the middle of summer,” Stiles said. “We don’t have to deal with the fucking bugs.”

Derek shrugged and looked at Liam. “You still better hope Isaac doesn’t snore. If you think it’s bad in the cabins, wait until they’re a few inches away.”

“I don’t snore, do I?” Stiles asked Scott.

Scott shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t,” Derek confirmed.

Finstock let the boys stay up talking for a while before he sent them all to bed. The unprecedented generosity had Derek and Jackson suspicious. The last time Finstock had kept them all busy with no spare time to sit around and talk.

“I think he’s planning something,” Derek said to Boyd as they settled down in their tents.

Finstock’s voice rang out. “Shut up, Hale! The tents aren’t soundproof.”

Derek rolled his eyes, then lay down on his back. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared up at the roof of the tent.

*

The morning wakeup call came before dawn.

“You were fucking right,” Stiles complained to Derek. “He was planning something.”

Finstock had woken them up to do stretches and a workout as the sun rose.

Derek grunted in response. It was still too early for him to form a proper reply.

“Come on, boys!” Finstock clapped his hands together. “After this you have to pack everything up then run back to camp!”

Stiles and Derek exchanged a look, then continued with their sit ups.

*

Back at main camp the boys were even more tired than most afternoons after spending the night sleeping in a cramped tent. The extra layer of exhaustion had everyone even more on edge than at any point in the last week.

Since the boys usually spent the afternoon running back to camp, Ethan and Allison were supervising the group as they did drills. The boys were split into two groups and did a circuit of push ups, sit ups, suicide sprints, and squats.

During a changeover Stiles and another boy, Jake, bumped into each other.

“Watch where the fuck you’re going!” Jake snapped, shoving Stiles.

“Talk for yourself!” Stiles shoved Jake back harder.

The other boys stopped what they were doing, forming a loose circle around the arguing boys.

“Break it up!” Allison called out.

Jake shoved Stiles again, so Stiles threw the first punch. He was tired and sick of this kid he had barely spoken to acting tough and pushing him around.

Stiles’ fist connected with Jake’s cheek, and Jake stumbled back a step at the force of the blow. Jake recovered quickly though, and he lunged at Stiles. He managed to get a punch of his own in before Ethan was stepping in between them and forcing them apart.

“Stilinski! Isolation! Now!” Ethan yelled. “Foster! You get to scrub the showers tonight!”

“Fuck off!” Stiles shouted. “He put his hands on me first! Why do I have to go to Iso?”

“Now!” Ethan repeated.

Allison put her hand on Stiles’ shoulder and steered him away from the crowd of boys. Stiles shrugged Allison’s hand off his shoulder harshly, but he went to Iso without another complaint.

*

Isolation was far more boring than Stiles had imagined. Even after hearing the stories from Derek and some of the other boys Stiles hadn’t been prepared for the monotony of staring at the same four walls for hours on end.

There was absolutely nothing in the room to occupy Stiles’ attention. There were no windows, and no gaps in the door that Stiles could see through. At the bottom of the door there was a flap which was where the counsellors passed meals through, however it latched from the outside and Stiles couldn’t open it.

The only thing that broke the tedium was when Erica brought Stiles dinner. When the boys were in Iso they didn’t get the same meals that they did in the mess. Instead they were fed a thin gruel and water. Finstock told them it was high in protein. Everyone knew it was to further the punishment of being in isolation.

Stiles knew when it got dark because of the drop in temperature, but without a clock or light he couldn’t be sure exactly how much time had passed.

Stiles sat cross legged on the hard bed with his back against the cold brick wall. Iso was colder than the cabins, and Stiles didn’t have any kind of bedding. Even as exhausted as he was, there was no way that he was going to be able to sleep, so he didn’t even try.

*

Stiles heard the crunch of leaves as someone walked up the path to Iso. It had to be past midnight Stiles reasoned, if not later. He sat up straighter and strained his hearing.

“Who’s there?” Stiles called out.

“It’s me,” Came Derek’s voice from the other side of the door.

“Derek?” Stiles stood up and walked over to the door. “What are you doing here?”

“Just checking up on you,” Derek admitted quietly. “The first night in Iso can be hard.”

“What if you get caught?” Stiles asked.

Derek chuckled. “I snuck out our first night here without you, Scott or Boyd noticing,” he said. “Finstock sleeps like the dead and the counsellors’ cabins are on the other side of the compound. I’m not gonna get caught.”

“You snuck out the first night?” On the other side of the door Stiles heard Derek sit, so he sat as well.

“I sneak out almost every night when people are asleep.” Derek’s voice was low and Stiles pressed himself up against the door so he could hear properly.

“Why?” Stiles asked.

“Because I can. I only got caught once during my first week the first time I was here. That was the first time Finstock threw me in Iso. He wanted to deter me from doing it again. I guess I do it to prove he didn’t break me.”

“Thanks for coming to check on me,” Stiles said.

“I should let you sleep,” Derek said and Stiles heard him stand.

“I can’t,” Stiles told him. “Sleep, I mean. I can’t sleep.

“Why?” Derek asked. Stiles was quiet for a while, unsure of whether to answer or not. “Why?” Derek asked again.

“I can’t sleep without my pillow,” Stiles said in a rushed whisper.

Derek let out a bark of laughter then went quiet. “Oh. You’re serious.”

“And you’re an ass,” Stiles snapped back. He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

“Hang on,” Derek said. He didn’t give an elaboration for what he was doing, but Stiles heard him jogging away down the path.

Stiles counted the seconds in his head while he waited to see if Derek would actually come back. He mentally chastised himself for telling Derek the truth. Why didn’t he just lie? Derek was probably going to tell the whole camp, and Stiles wouldn’t be able to look any of them in the eye for the next two weeks.

Stiles was so consumed in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear Derek approaching the second time. The sound of Derek’s voice made Stiles jump.

“You still there?”

“Where the fuck else would I be?” Stiles demanded.

Instead of answering Derek opened the flap at the bottom of the door. Stiles shifted out of the way and saw that Derek was trying to shove Stiles’ pillow through the small gap. Stiles grabbed the edge of the pillow and yanked it through the hole.

“Thanks,” Stiles said.

“Hopefully you’ll be able to get a little sleep,” Derek told him. “See you in the morning, Stiles.”

“See ya, Derek,” Stiles replied, unsure if Derek was even still standing there or not.

*

Stiles was woken up by rapid knocking on the door.

“Stiles!” Derek hissed through the door. “Stiles get the fuck up!”

Stiles groggily stood up, he noticed that the flap at the bottom of the door was open again.

“What is it?” Stiles asked.

“Give me your pillow,” Derek said.

“Why?”

Derek sighed impatiently. “If you get caught with it in here you’ll get stuck in here for the rest of the month or until you rat me out.”

“I’m not going to rat you out!” Stiles protested.

“I know that.” Derek was growing more and more impatient. “But I don’t really want to see you stuck in here for two straight weeks. So give me the goddamn pillow before one of the counsellors comes to let you out.”

Stiles grabbed the pillow and knelt down in front of the door. He shoved the edge of it out so Derek could grab hold and pull it the rest of the way out. Once Derek had the pillow he relatched the flap at the bottom of the door.

“Okay, it’s almost five, I gotta go,” Derek said. “If they let you out I’ll see you at breakfast.”

 “If?” Stiles repeated.

“Sometimes they’ll keep you in until lunch time or longer if they feel like it,” Derek explained. “Depends on how lenient they’re feeling.”

Stiles sighed. “Well hopefully they’ll let me out.”

“Hopefully,” Derek agreed.

*

In the mess hall the boys were sitting in their usual spots, so when Stiles joined them he sat down next to Scott, opposite Derek, like he normally did.

“How was isolation?” Scott asked.

Stiles shrugged. “Boring.”

“You get any sleep?”

Derek and Stiles met eyes across the table. “A little,” Stiles admitted.

Derek looked down at his food and smiled.

*

Fighting and arguing was commonplace amongst the boys, having twenty teenage boys living in such close quarters resulted in many clashing personalities. However nothing ever went beyond a few black eyes and split lips.

It wasn’t until Thursday morning of the third week that one of the boys did something that Finstock would deem as being profoundly stupid.

Before dawn the boys were woken up by the shrill noise of all the counsellors whistles going off at the same time.

“Peters has made an escape attempt!” Finstock announced as the boys all crawled out of their tents. He didn’t sound angry, he sounded oddly thrilled about the prospect of an escape attempt. “You’ll all follow Allison and Malia back to camp. Ethan, Aiden, Erica and I will be going out to search for Peters before he gets himself killed.”

Reluctantly the boys all started to pack up their tents. Thanks to the early wakeup call they’d had even less sleep than usual.

The boys were all preoccupied with the escape attempt. Many of them had joked about trying to escape, but they were miles away from any kind of civilization, no one had tried yet. The group were all excited at the idea of someone trying to escape Finstock’s camp. After just ten minutes they were betting on Peters’ chances of actually succeeding.

Jackson and Danny had their tent set up next to Derek and Boyd’s. Jackson and Derek exchanged an unamused look over the top of their half dismantled tents.

“You think it’s going to be worse than last time?” Jackson asked.

“There’s no way it can be worse than last time,” Derek replied. “I have scars from last time. Plus last time three of them tried it.”  

“What are you guys talking about?” Scott asked from where he and Stiles were packing up their own tent.

“Last time during our first week three idiots tried escaping,” Jackson explained. “Finstock decided to punish all of us to deter anyone else from trying.”

“He made us run up to the camping ground with full packs, then run back down,” Derek added. “I still have the scars from falling on the way back.” Derek pulled up his pant leg to show off some scars on his shin. “I fell on a rock.”

“We weren’t allowed to sleep,” Jackson continued. More of the boys were listening in now. “They made us scrub all the buildings from top to bottom. For a week all we got to eat was that disgusting gruel they give you when you’re in Iso.”

“Let’s get going!” Malia shouted, interrupting the boys who were chatting. “We’re not running back today but that’s not excuse not to move your asses!”

The boys hefted up their packs, and followed Allison and Malia back down towards the main camp.

*

A nervous energy surrounded the whole camp while they waited for word on whether Peters had been caught or not.

The two counsellors had the boys run laps for something to do. Allison and Malia weren’t making the boys run very hard, not yet anyway, so they weren’t completely out of breath and were able to talk a little.

“I’m surprised it took someone this long to try,” Isaac said as they ran.

“I’m surprised Peters was the one to try it,” Jackson said. “I had my money on Gardner or Stilinski.”

“Thought about it,” Stiles admitted. “Decided it wasn’t worth the hassle.”

“Anyone know why Peters ran?” Jackson asked a little louder, addressing the whole group of boys.

All the boys shook their heads. If any of them knew Peters reasoning they weren’t talking.

Allison and Malia kept the boys running until Finstock, Ethan, Aiden, and Erica returned with a chagrined Peters in tow.

Ethan led Peters up towards Iso, while Finstock and the others continued down to where the boys had stopped running.

“I bet Peters is in Iso for the rest of the month,” Isaac said.

“I bet Coach lets him out,” Jackson countered. “But only to make him scrub the toilets or something.”

Finstock cleared his throat and all the boys quieted down.

“Now I know none of you would try something stupid like Peters did,” Finstock started, “especially after seeing how easily we caught him. However just in case any of you are thinking of trying your luck, we’re going to keep you very busy.”

The boys made surprisingly little complaint. They had all heard Derek and Jackson talking, so they knew that this was coming.

“All of you drop now! You’re going to do push ups until I say stop!”

*

Derek and Jackson were the only ones who weren’t surprised by exactly how brutally creative Finstock could get with his punishments. That didn’t stop them from complaining about it however.

The boys weren’t allowed to sleep Thursday night, so by dawn on Friday they found themselves split into two groups. One group was scrubbing the floor of the mess hall, while the other group was pulling weeds from the garden beds around the compound.

“I’m going to pass out headfirst into this bucket,” Derek said. His hands were red from the hot water and the cleaning chemicals.

“That’s my line,” Stiles complained. He was the one that was always claiming he was going to pass out or fall down where he was standing.

“How long can someone go without sleep?” Liam asked.

“Couple of days at most before you feel any serious side effects,” Boyd answered.

Liam stopped scrubbing. “You don’t think they’ll keep us awake that long do you?”

Boyd shrugged, while Jackson and Derek shook their heads.

“They’ll probably let us sleep tonight,” Derek said. “Last time I think it was 38 hours they kept us up for.”

“37,” Jackson corrected. “They let us sleep after that kid tripped over air and landed on his face.”

As it turned out Derek’s estimation was closer. Finstock kept them up for almost 39 hours. It was around 8pm on Friday before he finally let the boys go sleep.

“Don’t think this is over!” Finstock yelled as they boys headed for their cabins. “We have more in store for you!”

*

The four boys stumbled into their cabin, exhausted and dirty. None of them bothered changing before climbing into bed.

Stiles took one look at the top bunk and sighed. “I can’t be bothered.” He looked at Derek who was toeing off his shoes. “Derek, I am commandeering the bottom bunk.”

“Like hell you are,” Derek said. “Get in your own fucking bed.”

“Nope.”

Stiles landed stomach first on Derek’s bed. Derek grabbed the back of Stiles’ shirt, but Stiles didn’t budge, and Derek’s arms were too sore to shift Stiles’ weight.

“Get out of my bed Stiles.”

Stiles pretended not to hear Derek.

“If you don’t get out I’m just going to climb in there with you,” Derek threatened. “I am not sleeping on the top bunk.”

“I dare you,” Stiles said, his voice muffled.

The boys’ bunks were barely big enough to fit one person. If two people tried sleeping in one they’d basically be sleeping on top of one another.

“Shut up,” Boyd warned from his own bunk.

Derek shoved Stiles so Stiles was pressed up against the wall, then climbed into bed as well.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Stiles asked. Derek was effectively draped over him.

“Told you I’d do it,” Derek said.

Stiles wiggled a little under Derek, but didn’t make any move to push Derek off. “I’m still not moving.”

“Neither am I.”

“Shut up,” Boyd said again.

Neither Derek nor Stiles were willing to give in first, so they lay crammed into the tiny bunk together.

*

Stiles woke up with his face in Derek’s hair.

They had shifted during the night so Stiles was still pressed against the wall, but instead of lying on top of him, Derek was now next to Stiles.

The siren was blaring, and Derek groaned. Stiles felt it more than he heard it.

“I’m going to kill Peters,” Derek said.

“Not if I beat you to it,” Boyd told him.

Derek rolled out of bed and stretched. It was still dark out and the cold morning air compared to the warm bed he had been in with Stiles, made him shiver.

Stiles sat up and ran a hand through his hair. “What do you think we’re going to have to do today?”

“I have no idea,” Derek admitted.  

*

Saturday morning the boys discovered that the camp was in the process of installing an obstacle course for “exactly this kind of thing” according to Finstock.

“This is worse than anything I could have imagined,” Stiles said to Derek.

Derek nodded in agreement.  

The obstacle course included things like rope climbs and stretches of muddy land with barbed wire overhead for the boys to army crawl their way through.

“So this is something we’ve been working on for a while,” Finstock explained. “We want to have it perfected by next month, so I’ve decided you’re all going to be the lucky guinea pigs.”

The usual murmur of discontent in response to one of Finstock’s announcement rippled through the boys.

“Okay!” Finstock clapped his hands with far too much glee for Stiles’ liking. “McCall, you’re up first!”

Finstock briefly explained the order of the obstacles, then sent Scott on his way. After Scott had started Finstock started sending other boys one by one into the course.

When the boys finished the course they were covered in mud, sweaty, scratched up and sore. From the finish line Ethan and Aiden sent the boys back to the start to do it all over again.

The girls were spread out over the course to make sure that they boys didn’t stop or try to skip anything.

Aside from a break for lunch the boys ran the course over and over again all day until it grew too dark for them to see where they were going.

On the way back to the main buildings Finstock turned to Erica. “Remind me to invest in some floodlights so we can have night runs.”

The boys were allowed to shower before dinner, and they all relished in the feeling of clean water. They scrubbed the mud from their hair and bodies.

After dinner once again Finstock once again split the boys up into two groups. Group one was sent to clean the showers, while group two stayed in the mess hall to clean the kitchen.

*

Sunday followed the same pattern that Saturday had.

The boys had to do laps of the obstacle course until dark. Then after dinner they had to clean their cabins literally inside and out. Finstock had them clean the windows and the gutters, scrub the floors, dust every inch of the cabins.

*

During breakfast on Monday morning Allison and Malia stood on top of a table to address the boys, much like Allison and Erica had done on their first morning.

“You need to make sure you have all your supplies!” Allison told the boys. “If you forget something then that’s just too bad!”

“The only reason we’d coming back down here before Saturday morning is if one of you dies!” Malia added.

“Since Peters is still in Iso, Erica will being staying here to keep an eye on him,” Allison continued. “The rest of us however will be camping with you.”

“What are we going to be doing up there for a whole week anyway?” One of the boys asked. The week prior the boys had continued to practice survival skills, but by Wednesday night it had felt like they were running out of things to do.

“Don’t worry,” Malia said. “We have plenty of things planned to keep you occupied.

*

The “plans” that Malia had mentioned ended up being the usual drills with small competitions mixed in.

Over the five days Finstock and the counsellors had organised for the boys to compete and show off what they had learned in terms of survival skills, and the other things that the boys had been taught.

As soon as they reached the clearing where they camped, Finstock announced that they were going to have a competition to see who could pitch, take down, and pack up their tents the fastest.

Because they were still sharing tents half of the boys sat by and watched while the others tried their hands at it first. Finstock stood nearby with a stopwatch.

 Stiles and Derek sat side by side while Boyd and Scott put up the tents.

“Five bucks on Scott,” Scott said.

“You don’t have five bucks,” Derek replied. “And no way, Boyd’s got this.”

“Nah.” Stiles clapped his hands in encouragement. “Come on Scotty!”

Derek laughed and shook his head. “Let’s go Boyd! Kick their asses!”

As it turned out, neither Scott nor Boyd won. Even though Isaac got his tent up first, he lost ground while packing it all back up. In the end Jackson was the one to get the tent packed up first, and he was unbelievably smug about it.

“Quit gloating, Whittemore,” Derek said as he took the tent from Boyd. “It’s my turn now.”

“Let’s see what you got, Hale,” Jackson said. He sat down between Isaac and Boyd.

“Five bucks on Derek,” Stiles said.

Derek sighed. “Once again you don’t have five bucks, and you’re supposed to be competing against me.”

“Yeah but I suck at this,” Stiles countered. “That’s why I always let Scott put up the tent.”

“It’s true,” Scott added.

“Ready?” Finstock asked. The boys nodded, and Finstock blew his whistle. “Go!”

Stiles was right when he said that he sucked at putting the tent up. Although he had gotten better at it with practice, he was still one of the slowest at pitching the tent.

Derek on the other hand had twice as much practice as any of the other boys, and was taking his tent back down before some of the others even had theirs properly secured.

 Unfortunately however Derek still wasn’t fast enough to beat Jackson’s time.

“Looks like you owe me five bucks, Stilinski,” Jackson said.

“Shut the fuck up,” Stiles shot back. Next to him Derek felt like punching the self-satisfied grin off Jackson’s face.

 “Now you get to set up your tents again so you have somewhere to sleep tonight!” Finstock shouted over the top of the talking boys.

Scott nudged the tent closer to Stiles with his foot. “You need the practice.”

“Maybe this time he’ll be a little quicker,” Jackson said.

Stiles rolled his eyes, but bent down to start unpacking the tent again. Jackson moved away to put up his own tent with Danny.

Stiles looked up and met eyes with Derek. “Maybe tomorrow the challenge will be lock picking,” he said with a shrug. “I’m bound to win that one.”

Derek just huffed out a laugh and looked at the ground.

*

On Tuesday Finstock had the boys make campfires. They had to collect all the materials to set one, including rocks to make sure that the fire stayed contained. Finstock and the counsellors watched the boys like hawks to make sure they didn’t do anything stupid.

As Finstock had predicted on the first day a number of the boys had been proficient at lighting fires before they had arrived at camp. Even without matches or lighters the skill came naturally to some of them. Finstock did not miss the opportunity to point out how profoundly disturbing that fact was.  

Derek had a small blaze going and he warmed his hands by the flames. Next to him, Scott’s fire burst to life. Stiles was still struggling with his flint and steel, trying to create sparks.

“You’re too far away from the fuel,” Derek told him. “Try holding the flint closer so the sparks can actually catch the dry leaves.”

Stiles followed Derek’s instructions and after a few more tries the dry leaf litter caught fire. The flames quickly spread to the larger kindling and soon enough Stiles had a nice blaze going.

Finstock announced that Derek’s fire was the best built and contained.

“You’ve had more practice at this than us,” Stiles said. “Unfair advantage!”

“You should have paid more attention during the demonstrations,” Derek shot back.

Stiles stuck out his tongue in reply.

“Very mature,” Derek deadpanned. “Besides, it’s not like I actually won anything.”

“But you still won!”

“You’re just angry because you’ve sucked at everything so far.”

“I have not _sucked_ ,” Stiles said indignantly.

“You kinda sucked,” Boyd added. Isaac nodded in agreement.

Stiles crossed his arms. “You’re all assholes.”

“I don’t think you sucked,” Scott said.

“Well at least _someone_ is on my side,” Stiles said, glaring at Derek.

“Like you said,” Derek shrugged. “Maybe they’ll have a lock picking contest and you’ll actually succeed at something.”

This time stiles stuck out his tongue and a raspberry accompanied the tongue pointed in Derek’s direction.  

*

On Wednesday the boys split up into pairs to demonstrate their first aid skills. They had to bandage and splint limbs, put arms in slings and show they knew how to preform CPR.

Derek and Stiles were partnered together and Derek was attempting to put Stiles’ arm in a sling. With his free hand Stiles covered his mouth to muffle his laugh after Derek let out a third frustrated sigh and refolded the sling.

“Do you want me to do your arm so you can see how it’s done?” Stiles asked.

Reluctantly Derek nodded and handed the sling over to Stiles.

Stiles put Derek’s arm in the sling – explaining the process as he went – then smiled triumphantly.

“Finally! Something I’m better at than you.”

“How’d you get so good at this anyway?” Derek asked.

“I took a first aid course freshman year,” Stiles explained. “I guess all that info just stuck. You can also make an emergency sling out of a t-shirt. Wanna see?”

Derek nodded. “Why not?”

Stiles pulled his hoodie off over his head and placed it on the ground beside him. Then he pulled his arms out of the t-shirt he was wearing so it was just hanging around his neck. He twisted the t-shirt around and adjusted it until his right elbow was supported by the fabric and his hand was out of the arm hole of the t-shirt.

“Easy.”

“Well, there had to be something you were good at.”

Stiles put his t-shirt back on properly, the put his hoodie back on as well. Once he was redressed he leaned forward and took off the sling that was still around Derek’s neck.

“Wanna try again or should we move on to making a leg splint?”

Derek took the fabric off Stiles. “Let me try one more time.”

Stiles shifted a little closer so Derek could reach properly.

*

At dusk Finstock had the boys collect wood for the fire in order to keep it smouldering overnight. 

“Tonight you’re all going to sleep out of your tents,” Finstock said. “The temperature is supposed to drop a lot tonight.”

None of the boys were surprised to hear that the temperature was going to drop. Their tents hadn’t stopped them from feeling how cold it had got the past couple of nights.

The boys tried to position their sleeping bags as close to the fire as they could. As soon as the sun had dropped below the horizon the temperature had dropped significantly and it was only getting colder as the moon rose in the sky.

This far away from civilization and light pollution the stars shone bright in the sky.

“Do you know any constellations?” Scott asked to no one in particular.

“I know the big dipper,” Derek said. He twisted his head trying to locate the correct stars. “It’s one that’s visible all year round.”

“I know Scorpius,” Danny said from a few sleeping bags over. “But that’s only visible during the summer.”

“Did you find the big dipper?” Stiles asked.

“Yeah, I did.” Derek pointed up and traced the lines of the constellation in the air.

Stiles tilted his head. “I don’t see it.” He pointed up as well and tried to follow the pattern Derek was tracing.

Derek and Stiles were side by side, so Derek grabbed Stiles’ wrist and moved Stiles’ hand.

“That’s the handle, then it drops like that. See it now?”

Stiles nodded. “I see it.”

Derek moved their hands again. “And off the end of the big dipper if you follow it in a straight line you can find the North Star. The North Star is also the tip of the little dipper handle.” Derek traced the smaller constellation as well before letting go of Stiles’ hand.

They boys lay on their backs staring up at the sky, pointing out the constellations they knew and telling stories, until one by one they all started to fall asleep.

*

Finstock addressed the boys just after lunch on Thursday to tell them what the challenge for the day was.

“I’ve decided,” he started. “That you don’t have to sleep out in the open tonight.” A brief moment of clapping and cheering interrupted him. “ _If_ ,” he continued. “ _If_ you can build your own shelter from natural materials found around the immediate area.”

The brief moment of elation evaporated.

“How did I not see that coming?” Scott asked.

“You haven’t had all the optimism beaten out of you yet,” Derek told him.

“You have until dark to gather materials and build your shelter!” Finstock blew his whistle. “Go!”

The twenty boys scattered in different directions to look for branches and other materials that they could use.

A few minor fights broke out over who had spotted certain things first, but they were quickly broken up by threats of having their sleeping bags taken away.

Stiles managed to claim a good spot near a large fallen tree, however actually building shelter was not something that he excelled at. The branches he leaned against the trunk to form a wall were either too short, or kept slipping down and refused to stay still.

“If you let me set up on the other side of the tree I’ll help you keep it all in place,” Derek offered after he watched Stiles snap a stick over his knee in frustration.

“Deal,” Stiles agreed without hesitation.

Derek dropped his armful of branches he was carrying on the other side of the tree trunk, then turned to face the disaster that was Stiles’ attempt at making shelter.

First Derek cleared away the pile of branches, tossing away any that were way too short. Then with the toe of his shoe Derek scuffed out a shallow trench about six feet long. The trench prevented the branches from slipping away from the trunk of the tree. Derek placed several branches against the tree and they stayed in place thanks to the trench.

“You need to go find some longer ones,” Derek told Stiles. “Think you can do that?”

Stiles nodded. “You’re a life saver.”

Derek scuffed his shoe against the ground again and shook his head. “Just consider us even from you helping me out yesterday.”

“I still think I owe you,” Stiles said. “Since you helped me with the fire as well.” He dropped his voice. “And I still owe you for checking up on me when I was in Iso.”

“I’m sure I think of some way that you can pay me back,” Derek told him.  

*

That night the temperature dropped again, but the shelters reduced the amount of wind that got to the boys who had successfully built them.

Both Derek and Stiles slept on opposite sides of the fallen tree with their backs against the tree trunk.

*

“Are these nightshade berries or blueberries?” Stiles asked, examining the small berries in front of him.

The task for Friday was to identify poisonous plants, including different leaves and berries, which they had learned about over the last three weeks.

Scott and Isaac were bent over a few leaves trying to remember the difference between ivy and Virginia creeper, while Boyd and Liam were carefully avoiding touching poison ivy leaves with their bare hands. Derek was the only one to hear Stiles’ question.

Derek shrugged. “Dunno. Dare you to eat them to find out.”

“Okay.” Stiles picked up the berries and brought them up to his mouth. 

“Oh my God!” Derek lunged forward and knocked the berries out of Stiles hand before Stiles could put them in his mouth. “I was fucking kidding! Don’t eat them!”

“Dude,” Stiles laughed. “I wasn’t actually going to eat them. Do you really think I’d poison myself?”

Derek’s cheeks had a tinge of pink to them. “Well you don’t have a history of good decision making.”

Stiles laughed again. “Good point. But I promise I wouldn’t poison myself, at least not with nightshade. Maybe something a little less deadly. Something that would make me sick enough to get me out of here, but not sick enough to die.”

Derek rolled his eyes, but his lips twisted up into a smile. “You’re an idiot.”

“You’re the one who thought I’d poison myself.” He looked at the berries that were scattered on the floor. “But seriously, are they nightshade berries or not?”

Derek picked up one of the berries. He squeezed it until the skin split and juice leaked out onto his fingers, then he sniffed it. “I’m pretty sure they’re blueberries. Blueberries are sweeter than nightshade.” He held out the berry so Stiles could smell.

Stiles leaned forward and sniffed the berry still between Derek’s fingers. “Huh.” He sat back, then plucked the berry from Derek’s hand and popped it into his mouth. “Then I can eat them.”

Derek stared wide-eyed at Stiles. “What if I was lying to you?”

“Nah.” Stiles brushed Derek off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You don’t want me to die.”

“Idiot,” Derek said again. Stiles just grinned at him.

*

After the now familiar run back to the camp on Saturday morning, Finstock had the boys unpack their packs, put away their belongings and tents then meet on the basketball court.

“Since today is your last full day here you’re going to spend it by cleaning and making sure that everything is ready for when you leave,” Finstock told them.

“We literally scrubbed everything clean on the weekend!” Stiles exclaimed. “And we haven’t been here all week!”

“A lot of dirt can build up in a week,” Finstock said. “You’ll learn that first hand since you just nominated your cabin to clean the showers.”

Next to Stiles, Derek, Boyd, and Scott groaned and glared at Stiles.

*

“Why are we cleaning the showers now?” Stiles asked. He was on his hands and knees scrubbing at the tiles around the drain. “Everyone’s probably going to shower again tonight anyway.”

None of the other boys answered him.

The four teenagers were quiet, scrubbing the tiles of the showers, until once again Stiles broke the silence.

“I actually can’t believe it’s been a month already.”

There was a pause before Boyd spoke up. “I know what you mean. The days have dragged on, but at the same time it’s hard to believe we’ve been out here for a whole four weeks.”

The conversation was interrupted at that point by Finstock coming in to check on the progress the boys were making in cleaning.

Finstock looked around the room and pointed out areas he thought weren’t clean enough yet. “The next time I come back I want each tile to be gleaming.”

Once Finstock was gone Derek balled up the wet rag he had been using to wipe down the tiles and threw it at the back of Stiles’ head.

“Hey!” Stiles turned to glare at Derek. “What was that for?!”

“You’re the reason we’re in here!”

“So? We’d be cleaning no matter where we were!”

“Yeah, but we could have been outside, not stuck in the boys shower room!”

Stiles dunked his sponge in a bucket of water and threw it at Derek. The other boy wasn’t fast enough to dodge out of the way and the sponge hit him in the side of the face.

Derek stood, then he upped the ante by picking up his own bucket of water and advancing on Stiles. Stiles scooted backwards across the wet floor of the shower, trying to avoid Derek, while Scott and Boyd both stepped back to avoid getting soaked. Derek upended the bucket over Stiles’ head, completely drenching him.

Stiles sputtered out a shocked laugh. “Oh my God!”

Derek held out a hand to Stiles and helped him stand up. He had a self-satisfied smirk on his face until Stiles turned the shower on, soaking both Derek and himself even further with freezing cold water. Derek managed to push Stiles out of the way and turn the shower back off.

Neither Derek nor Stiles noticed Scott and Boyd behind them who had picked up their own buckets. With carefully synchronized aim, Scott and Boyd tipped out the water in their buckets over Derek and Stiles.

Stiles faced Scott who was laughing, and opened his arms wide. “Hey, Scotty, how about a hug?”

Scott shook his head, dropped his bucket, and backed away from Stiles. However before he could get far Stiles grabbed his wrist. In his haste to break Stiles’ grip Scott slipped on the wet floor. Both boys went crashing to the ground. Still on the floor, Stiles wrapped his arms around Scott, his drenched clothes making Scott’s wet as well.

Boyd had been watching Scott and Stiles and was oblivious to Derek filling a bucket with cold water from the shower. Derek poured the water over Boyd. There was a moment of silence where Boyd stared at Derek in open mouthed shock, before letting out a burst of laughter.

Soon enough all four boys were laughing. Scott and Stiles were still on the ground, Scott was doubled over in laughter while Stiles pushed his wet hair back out of his face, shoulders shaking with laughter. Boyd had one hand against the wall, bracing himself. Next to him Derek had a hand on Boyd’s shoulder, looking at the floor as he laughed.

Eventually the boys managed to calm down enough to stop laughing. Together the collected the sponges, rags, scrubbing brushes and refilled the buckets with warm water and cleaning fluid.

“So,” Stiles began. “Is it weird if I say I might actually miss you assholes?”

Derek flicked Stiles with water, then shook his head. “Nah,” he said. “That’s not weird.”

*

The only thing that the boys had to do on Sunday morning was pack up all of their personal belongings.

Finstock personally inspected all of the cabins to make sure that they were spotless and none of the boys had forgotten anything.

They boys sat on the ground with their bags. They were leaving in drips and drabs as parents came to collect them.

Stiles sat by himself, throwing small pieces of gravel across the yard. Scott had already been picked up, and Boyd was talking to Erica, who was actually laughing for a change.

Derek came over and sat down next to Stiles. He held out a piece of paper to Stiles without looking at him. Stiles took the paper and unfolded it. There was a phone number scrawled in black pen across the lined paper.

“I thought it’d be cool to keep in touch,” Derek said. “Summer’s coming up. Maybe we could hang out.”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded. “That’d be great.” He carefully tucked the scrap of paper in the front pocket of his bag.

“It wasn’t that bad this time around,” Derek said. “Even if I had to deal with Jackson again.”

“You thinking about coming back a third time?” Stiles asked, looking at Derek.

Derek knocked shoulders with Stiles. “Only if you’re there with me.”

Stiles laughed. “Another month of 5am wake up calls? Nah, I think we should just stick with hanging out in the summer. Sleep ins, and no adult supervision.”

“Stilinski!” Finstock’s voice interrupted Derek and Stiles’ conversation.

Stiles looked up and saw his dad’s cruiser parked on the other side of the yard. He hadn’t even noticed his dad arrive until Finstock had gotten his attention.

“I gotta go,” Stiles said with a sigh.

The two teenagers stood and made their way over to the cruiser slowly.

“I’ll text you as soon as I can convince my dad to give me my phone back,” Stiles told Derek.

“Or until you find out where he hid it?” Derek asked.

“Or that,” Stiles nodded.

There was a small pause where neither of the boys knew what to say.

“I’ll talk to you soon,” Stiles said. He opened the back door of the cruiser and threw his bag onto the backseat, then closed the door again.

“Talk to you soon,” Derek echoed.

Stiles opened the front cruiser door and slid into the passenger seat. He closed the door with a solid thud, and reached down to put his seat belt on.

“Hi, Dad.”

“How was it?” The sheriff asked.

Stiles looked out the window at Derek, who flashed him a smile and a parting wave as the sheriff pulled away.

“Fucking terrible,” Stiles lied.

**Author's Note:**

> im always around on [tumblr](http://heavenlyhale.tumblr.com/) so come talk to me


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